


Beautiful Freaks

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4307706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was prompted from howlinchickhowl on Tumblr, and I ran with it for three long chapters:</p>
<p>“I have a prompt! I challenge you to write it.</p>
<p>I was talking to an old school friend of mine today and he told me this story about how he asked me out to dinner once, on a date, but I didn’t realise that’s what he was asking I just thought we were going to get food somewhere for the fun of getting food, so I invited some other people and didn’t really spend any time with him all night.</p>
<p>As such: Finn keeps trying to ask Rae out and she keeps not really understanding what he’s doing, convinced that he just wants to be mates. I’m thinking post sexy party, but it can be AU, I really don’t mind. I just think it’d be cute.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not the Girl You Think You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Original A/N: This thing got pretty huge, and I’m not sure if this is entirely what you had in mind, m'dear. I hope you enjoy it! (I was doing this instead of the work I was SUPPOSED to be doing, so take that into consideration!) And someone else was calling for slush earlier; I think this might qualify, on the whole.
> 
> Addendum: This mini-series is one of my favorite things I've ever written, for what it's worth.

“Rae! Telephone!” Linda barked up the stairs.

Rae stuck her pen between the pages of her diary. It was probably Chloe. No need to rush. “Alright! I’m coming!” Rae shouted back.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw her mum had left the handset next to the phone and wandered back into the kitchen. Rae sighed deeply and picked it up. “Hello?” she asked flatly.

“Rae?” The voice on the other end of the phone was definitely not Chloe’s.

“Erm, yeah?” Was that …?

“It’s Finn.” It WAS.

“Oh, hiya! Sorry, wasn’t expectin’ to hear from ya.”

“I said I’d give ya a ring, didn’t I?” He sounded slightly put out.

“That’s right, you did.”  _Breathe_ , Rae had to tell herself.

A pause followed that bordered on the uncomfortable. Rae was the first to crack. “So, what’s up?”

There was a sound on the line, like Finn was clearing his throat. “I was jus’ wonderin’, d’ya have anythin’ on tonight?”

Did she ever have plans? “Erm, no. Nothing special, why?”

“Just thought we could, like, get somethin’ to eat. Maybe a Chinese?”

The gang always went to the caf or the chippy when food was in the offing; they ploughed a narrow culinary furrow. Rae was surprised, but replied, “Sure, I guess. What time is everyone meetin’?”

“No–” Finn started, but stopped. “Round about six?”

“Alrigh’,” Rae agreed. “See ya then, then.”

Rae looked at the clock. 12:30. Plenty of time to kill. She went back up to her room and opened a book. She tried to read, but kept getting stuck halfway through the sentence and having to start again. She was distracted, but she couldn’t say by what. She flipped through her CDs, but nothing was begging to be played. She stood in the middle of her room, swinging her arms uselessly for a minute or so, before grabbing her bag and heading to the pub. Maybe some of the gang would be there to keep her mind occupied.

She pushed through the door to the pub and saw Finn, Chop and Izzy sitting in their usual seats at their usual table. Izzy clocked Rae first and waved excitedly. Finn looked at Izzy curiously before following her eyes to see Rae walking over. He looked back at the table quickly.

“Hey, Rae!” Izzy trilled. “I know I’ve said it before, but your party last week was so much fun!” She glanced at Chop for the briefest of seconds.

Rae rolled her eyes while smiling at Izzy. “Thanks, again, Izzy. Glad you enjoyed it.”

Chop held up his empty pint glass and gestured wordlessly between Rae and the bar, indicating he was going up for another and did she want one. She nodded, and Chop headed off.

“Hiya, Finn,” Rae said, since he had yet to acknowledge her presence. She thought it was a little strange, considering they’d just spoken less than an hour ago.

“Yeah, hi,” he responded, looking up at her for a brief second before pulling out his tobacco and rolling paper.

Izzy was bobbing her head to whatever crap song was playing on the jukebox. It wasn’t bad enough to do Finn and Rae’s heads in, but they wouldn’t have grooved to this non-tune for any amount of money. “So, what are ya up to tonight, Rae?” Izzy asked casually.

“I thought we were goin’ to meet for a Chinese?” Rae said, assuming everyone was invited. She looked at Finn. “Did I get that wrong?”

Finn froze in the middle of making his cigarette. “Errrm, no. I just–it was supposed to be …” he faltered.

Izzy raised her eyebrows. “What’s this, now? I didn’t know about it.” She frowned. “We never go for Chinese.”

Finn sighed. “It’s not a big deal, really. I just wanted to thank Rae for being  … helpful … at the party.”

Rae and Izzy both looked confused now.

“What d’ya mean?” Izzy asked.

“Well, I-I found out about my nan that night, and Rae …” Here he looked up from his tobacco for a second, catching Rae’s eye. “… was very … nice about it. Listenin’ to me bang on abou’ her an’ that.“ He busied himself with his cigarette again, his voice ever so slightly smaller. "Jus’ thought I’d buy ya somethin’ to eat as a thanks.”

Rae shifted uncomfortably in her seat and said, “Listen, ya don’t hafta worry about it. Anyone would have done the same thing.”

Finn glanced back up quickly, this time holding Rae’s gaze. “No, they wouldn’t,” he said, quietly.

Rae didn’t know how to respond. This all felt too familiar. She was glad when Chop brought her pint to the table.

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere, then? It looks like a slapped arse convention!” Chop took a swig of beer, waiting to hear what was up.

Izzy finally spilled the beans. “Oh, nothin’! We’re just discussin’ gettin’ a Chinese later!” Rae could have sworn she saw Finn flinch as Izzy spoke, but couldn’t think why.

Chop shrugged. “Sure, why not? It’s been a while. An’ I think they changed the oil at the chippy.” He made a face. “Everythin’ there’s been tastin’ off lately.”

Rae sighed inwardly with relief at the change of topic, completely missing that Finn wanted to take her to dinner alone.

* * *

Archie never showed up at the pub, so it was five of them at the restaurant. Chloe had hesitated when she heard the idea; Rae knew she didn’t really like Chinese food, but Finn was involved, so she put her tastes aside.

Rae quietly asked the waitress for chopsticks when she brought everyone’s water. The proprietor of the Golden Hunan had fairly assumed most people in Stamford preferred to use standard cutlery, and didn’t automatically provide them to every patron. The waitress raised an eyebrow and pulled a handful of chopsticks from her apron and dropped them in the middle of the table, in case anyone else got any fancy ideas, then took their order. Everyone got something basic, apart from Rae, who ordered duck with pineapple and pickled ginger. She’d worked her way through most of the menu when her mum was on nights, and quickly got over sweet and sour chicken.

When their food arrived, Rae picked up her chopsticks and deftly pincered her first bite. Chop, Finn and Izzy all watched her with interest, and as she took another, she looked up to see them all staring at her.

“What? What’s wrong?” she asked, swiping at her chin to make sure there wasn’t food there. She really didn’t like people watching her eat, even those she knew and liked.

“Nothin’!” Chop said. “Just never seen anyone use those things like they knew what they were doin’.” He picked up his fork and tucked into his meal. Izzy grabbed her fork, too.

Finn’s hand hovered over his, but then grabbed a set of chopsticks from the pile and took the paper off. He broke them apart and studied Rae’s hand for a minute to see how she was holding them. Chloe had been observing the situation and decided to try her hand at the chopsticks, too.

Finn tried to pick up a prawn and dropped it four times. Chloe joked, “These things are so hard to use! You should have to pass an exam before they give ‘em to you!” Finn smirked at her, but kept trying, biting his lower lip in concentration. Rae noticed him struggling, and since she was sitting on his right, she touched his elbow lightly to get his attention. He jerked his head in surprise at the contact.

“The bottom chopstick shouldn’t move. Just the top one. Sort of like … a hinge.” She demonstrated with the sticks in her hand a couple of times, and then grabbed a piece of pineapple, popping it into her mouth. “See?” she grinned.

Finn nodded, but his face assumed a look of consternation. He adjusted the sticks in his hand and tried again. This time, it took only two attempts before he picked up a prawn. He grinned back and leaned forward to take the bite over his plate.

Rae nodded approvingly.

“How’d you get so good at this?” Finn murmured, having lost his touch on the second bite and having to readjust.

Rae thought back to her time in hospital.  Her mum had gotten her some of those decorative chopsticks to wear in her hair. She’d kind of thought they were dumb, and waited for the orderlies to take them off her, but they must have been blunt enough, because they never did. She’d been wearing them one day when they served chop suey in the cafeteria. This schizophrenic guy Vince tried to grab them out of her hair to eat his dinner with, and she had to put them in her pocket while he was taken back to his room and given an extra dose of meds.

When she’d gotten back to her room, she pulled them out of her pocket, and rinsed them in the sink. She hadn’t thought about trying to use them for anything other than a hair decoration, and decided to experiment by trying to pick up ornaments on her dresser. It was one way to pass some of the long stretches of time.

She shrugged and said, “We get a lot of takeaways at my house. I just started usin’ ‘em one day.”

* * *

Chloe giggled as she dropped another piece of baby corn back onto her plate. She tossed her hair and smiled at Finn, who thought how much better this night would be if it was just Rae and him. Like he’d hoped it would be all along. He looked over at Rae, feeling forlorn. When Rae caught his eye, she cocked her head to one side. "D'ya wanna try some of mine?” she asked, gesturing to her plate.

Finn’s insides twisted with a sharp thrill at her familiarity, but he managed to shrug casually and said, “S’pose, yeah.”

There was a momentary fumbling between them, as Rae didn’t know if she should use her chopsticks to transfer it to his plate, or move her plate closer to his. Finn finally picked up his fork and speared a piece. Rae smiled and whispered “Cheater” under her breath. Finn chuckled through his bite, putting his hand up to cover his mouth.

Chloe must have sensed she was being left out of something. “That looks good, Rae. Can I try some, too?” Her voice sounded cheerful, but a note or two higher than usual.

Rae shrugged. “Sure,” she said, sliding the plate over towards her. Chloe pierced a forkful, having given up on chopsticks, too. Rae noticed a large piece of pickled ginger behind the bite of duck. “Chloe, watch out, it could be spicy.” She finished her sentence as Chloe bit into the ginger, eyes widening. She chewed a few times and then grabbed her napkin to spit it out. She gulped at her glass of water and waved her hand in front of her open mouth uselessly.

As Rae and Finn looked on in quiet amusement, Chop started laughing. “A mate o’ mine snorted some powdered ginger once. That stuff’ll burn yer throat right up!”

Rae spooned some white rice onto Chloe’s plate. “Here, this’ll help more than water will. Just take a few bites, and it should soak up the ginger.”

Finn’s heart lurched against his rib cage. How could she be so funny and so thoughtful? He had believed she didn’t like him at the sexy party when she said she didn’t want to be his friend, and had been confused about how upset he’d been. And then he was so relieved when she said they were alright. But now he could see it was because he’d subconsciously realized Rae was a person he always wanted to know. She was so down on herself, unable to see how bloody great she was. He shook his head a bit, trying to clear his thoughts and just focus on eating his dinner.

He’d have to figure out another way to get her on her own.

* * *

When the meal was over, Finn won the argument with Rae about paying for her meal. (She’d put up a good fight, but must have seen the determination behind Finn’s eyes and known she couldn’t win this one.) Chop and Izzy both said they needed to get home, waving their goodbyes. Finn watched them walk to the corner and start to go their separate ways. Then Chop put his hand up, like he’d forgotten to tell Izzy something, and casually loped after her.

Chloe was stood lounging around, fiddling with the zipper on her jacket. Why didn’t she just leave? Finn thought irritably.

Rae swing her backpack over her shoulder. “Well, I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then,” she said, her eyes darting between Chloe and Finn.

“No, wait!” The words were out before he could stop them. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I was thinking’ of goin’ to the record shop. Thought maybe you’d want to … look for somethin’, too?”

Rae smiled down at her shoes. “Well, I guess I do have some free cash, since ya paid for my meal.” She glanced up through her lashes. “Cheeky sod.”

They both looked over at Chloe, who stood up straighter and miraculously seemed to understand that she wasn’t welcome on this excursion.

“I’d better be off home, too, actually,” Chloe said. “Promised I’d help my mum with somethin’.”

Rae raised her eyebrows in surprise and started to say something. Finn, fearing it was a protest, jumped in ahead of her and stuttered, “O-okay, well, see you tomorrow, Chloe.”

The three of them walked to the door. Chloe went left, headed towards home. Rae and Finn turned right towards town. Finn caught up to Rae in a few strides after holding the door for her, and they silently fell into step together.

The past week had been a rough one for Finn. He’d watched as his parents busied themselves with funeral arrangements, unable to find a way to help them with the adult business of grieving. He’d had to go and buy a suit jacket for the memorial service. As soon as he put it on, he knew he’d never wear it again for anything. It would be too sad, thinking of why he’d bought it. To keep his mind from settling into the sadness, he found himself thinking more and more about Rae. Coming up with plans to spend time with her, and trying to figure out why he was so interested. Every now and then, he’d feel guilty for not thinking more about his nan, but he knew if he did, the anguish would be overwhelming.

So, he’d had a while to plan how to get Rae alone. Well, one on one might be a better phrase. He just wanted to talk to her somewhere where they weren’t under the watchful eyes of the gang. To continue the conversation they had started at the sexy party. The most logical place was his house, he figured it was the place they were most likely to be left alone, but then he thought she might get suspicious if he asked her over to his. Finn figured if they went somewhere different, they were less likely to run into the gang and face questioning. He had enough questions of his own, he wasn’t ready to entertain anyone else’s. Hence, the Chinese.

However, his idea had backfired. Rae couldn’t read the tone in his voice over the phone, and she obviously couldn’t imagine Finn wanting to be alone with her.

One of the reasons he wanted to spend more time with her, was because he wanted to test his tolerance. Most people got on his wick, even Rae had, at first. For example, Chloe put his back up on a near constant basis and, as much as he liked Izzy, her enthusiasm sometimes made him a little irritable. Archie was fine until he started in on Alexander the Great or some other historical twat. He could spend hours on end with Chop or some of the other lads. It must have something to do with talking. Girls just talked more (well, apart from his dad, who routinely talked his ear off and  _definitely_  got on his wick), and often on subjects he cared nothing about. Rae puzzled him. She was always banging on about it, like he told her, but he didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it was because she talked about things he liked, like music, and … well, mainly music. And it didn’t hurt that she was so funny, with a laugh that made him happy just to hear it. But she also knew when to keep quiet. He could tell she thought a lot more than she talked, and he was powerfully curious to know what she thought about … everything. Even about him, though the idea made him nervous.

“So …” Finn started, without anything to back it up.

“So …” echoed Rae. “What are ya lookin’ for?”

“Um, well …” he started, as he held the door to the shop open for her. He knew she meant which albums, but the question could easily be taken another way.

“That’s a deep subject!” she quipped. He stared at her and she ducked her head. “Sorry, that’s a terrible joke my mum always makes.”

Finn’s mouth pulled up at the corners; she was nervous. He didn’t know why that was good, but he felt that it was. “Wellll,” he drawled with a grin, “there’s a new Crowded House compilation. I heard one of the new tracks off it and …” Finn trailed off, looking at Rae.

“And?” she asked, looking up from the rack she’d started to peruse.

“A-and I liked it. I think it’s called …  _Not the Girl You Think You Are_.” He really did like it, but he also kind of wanted to gauge her reaction to the title.

Her head shot up. She seemed to deliberately pause before saying, “Oh, yeah? I haven’t heard it.”

The best thing about their local record shop was the row of three old school listening booths along the back wall. The owner had kept them even after albums became rarer and rarer, and added cassette and CD players, as a concession to the times. Finn jerked his head toward them and said, “I’ll grab it, if you want to meet me in a booth. Ya can lemme know what ya think, using your superior knowledge of music.”  He flashed a grin at her over his shoulder.

Rae hesitated for a second, while her face ran the gamut of emotions from eyes narrowed in suspicion at his dig to a genuine smile. He watched her walk over and peer into the window of the left hand door, to make sure no one was in there.

He strolled over to the counter to ask Dave if they had already started a listening copy of _Recurring Dream_. Dave nodded in time to the song playing throughout the store while looking at CD cases under the counter. He found it and handed it over, Finn mouthing “cheers,” before heading over to the booth. He adjusted his jacket collar and smoothed forward a lock of hair, before taking a deep breath and opening the door. Rae jumped.

“Y’alright? Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said apologetically.

“Yes, no. Ya just can’t see out the window when you’re sittin’ down.” Rae explained.

There wasn’t much room in the booth. Finn flashed back to the two of them in her mum’s airing cupboard, a memory which filled him with a cocktail of emotions. He gestured to the seat, “D’ya mind if I join ya?”

Rae moved over, shaking her head while pressing herself into the wall. Finn watched as he settled in next to her. It was like she was afraid to touch him. “There’s plenty o’ room, Rae,” he said softly, hoping she’d relax a bit.

She unclenched a fraction or two, and Finn slipped the CD into the player.  He looked at the back of the CD case and skipped several tracks. “This is the one I heard,” he said, pressing play.

Languorous tones filled the tiny room. Rae relaxed in further fractions, almost imperceptibly, but Finn certainly noticed, especially when the side of her thigh touched his. He carefully, yet casually, arranged his hand to slip sideways slowly, the edge of his pinky and palm eventually resting against her leg.

It was a lovely tune, but neither of them were really listening until the second time through the refrain:

_He won’t deceive you but tell you the truth_

_Woman, he’ll be no trouble_

_He won’t write you letters full of excuses_

_Come on, believe you have one in a million_

Finn inclined his head to see if he could decipher Rae’s feelings. She’d turned her head away from him, but he could tell she was crying. “Hey,” he said gently, “you alrigh’?” He placed his near hand on her shoulder, and she twitched at his touch.

She shook her head for a moment, then changed to a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

* * *

When she’d finally honed in on the lyrics, Rae was bowled over by a wave of unexpected emotion. The refrain made her think of her dad. Her deadbeat dad who’d never actually written her a single letter, full of excuses or otherwise. He was no trouble, because he didn’t take the trouble. She knew that’s not how the words were meant, but that’s what they meant to her, just then. When she started to cry, she got so mad at herself, and the tears just flowed faster.

Why did she have to cry in front of Finn? What if he asked her why? Could she tell him? Could she trust him? It wasn’t her biggest secret, but it was a deep wound that had just been reopened, much deeper than those scars on her thighs. She could run away, make an excuse, but she wanted to stay. She was having a good time, apart from the waterworks, and it was  _Finn_.

He was saying something, but she missed it. “Sorry, what?”

He didn’t crack wise about her being deaf this time. “I jus’ said, ya don’t need to apologize.” He put his hand on her shoulder again, and she didn’t squirm away this time. “If ya want, ya can talk t’me about it, but if ya don’t, that’s fine, too.”

Rae nodded and sniffed. “Thanks,” was all she said. The CD skipped to the next song, another new track. Rae tried to lose herself  in the music, but this track wasn’t as compelling as the previous song, though if she’d paid attention to the lyrics, she might have reconsidered:

_When your turn comes ‘round_

_And the light goes on_

_And you feel your attraction again_

_And your instinct can’t be wrong_

She was distracted, thinking about whether or not to explain her tears to Finn. He’d cried in front of her about his nan, and told Rae all about her. If they were friends, which she hoped they were, she should be able to talk to him about stuff. At least, stuff she felt comfortable sharing. So, she took a deep breath, wiped under her eyes, and turned to face Finn.

“Sorry,” she started, realizing it wasn’t a brilliant beginning. Finn gave her a look, but didn’t correct her. “It’s just, that last song. I really liked it, but it reminded me of my dad.”

A look of bewilderment came over Finn, “Your  _dad_?” he ask, his voice sliding up the scale.

“Jus’ the bit about the letters.” She sighed and looked at her fidgeting hands. “Y’remember the party, yeah?”

Finn nodded.

Rae shook her head. “‘Course you do. Well, that same day, I found out that … my mum had been writin’ me, pretendin’ to be my dad, for years.” She sighed again, shifting slightly against Finn. He cleared his throat, but nodded at her to go on.

“I’d been gettin’ these postcards every few months, with pictures on ‘em from the Outer Hebrides, where my mum told me he moved. But when we were talkin’ about that, um, love letter ya got, and how it was franked from Lincolnshire,” Now Finn was shifting his weight and looking uncomfortable. “I went home from the pub and finally put two and two together. I was mad at first, which is sort of why I even had the party. But, now …” Rae trailed off, she felt such a mix of emotions, she wasn’t sure where to start.

“What did Archie say when you told him?” Finn asked in a husky voice.

Rae glanced over in surprise. “What? Nothin’! I mean, I didn’t tell him. Or anyone else.”

She tensed up, but then Finn said, “I’m sorry, I just thought you two were pretty close.” He gingerly placed his hand on top of Rae’s, sending little shivers up her arm and down her spine. “I’m really glad ya could tell me abou’ it.”

* * *

_Shit_ , Finn thought.  _I fucked everything up, mentioning Archie_. He wasn’t even sure why he had. Finn had happily noticed his friend’s absence from at the restaurant. If he couldn’t have a meal just with Rae, he was glad that Archie wasn’t there to steal Rae’s attention. Every time the two of them were together, they were off in a corner, whispering and laughing, yet both of them maintained they were nothing more than friends.

He wished he could jump back in time five seconds, before he opened his stupid mouth.

Rae was really quiet now, like her engines had shut down and she was on silent running. He looked at her again, and her face was almost a mask.

“When’d he leave?” Finn asked, cautiously.

“Hmmm?” Rae was lost in thought, so Finn repeated his question.

“My dad?” she asked. Finn nodded.

“When I was six,” Rae replied numbly. Finn thought about when he was six, and how he would have felt if his dad had fucked off. He couldn’t even imagine how hurt he would have been. Would still be, if it happened tomorrow. Bloody horrible.

“Shit, Rae, I’m sorry.” Finn’s hand was still on hers, but her hand had unconsciously balled into a fist. He wanted to hug her, hold her, comfort her like she had him a week ago.

“S’alright. I don’t even think about ‘im, until another postcard comes.” She took a deep breath. “And now, I’ll know it isn’t him, anyway.”

Finn jerked his head to look at Rae. “Y’mean y’haven’t told your mum you know?”

“Nah. She’d be upset. She’s got enough goin’ on. I think she’s plannin’ to have a weddin’ ceremony here, too.” Rae shook her head. “Bloody hell. I have a step-dad. I didn’t even think o’ that.”

Finn reached out and stopped the CD, which was distracting him from their conversation. Rae looked at him curiously. “It was doin’ me head in. I don’t think I’ll get it for just one song, 'specially not if it makes ya cry.”

Rae turned her head towards him; her eyes seemed extra bright, like she might cry again. “Hey, now,” he began. “Don’t start tha’ again.”

_Fuck it_ , Finn thought, and leaned in to hug Rae. She didn’t hug him back at first, but then her arms joined up around his chest and he could feel her bury her face in his shoulder. They stayed like that for a few moments, and Finn would have been happy to hold onto her for hours. But, she pulled away first, and then apologized again. “Sorry,” she started.

Finn was so bloody exasperated. “Why?” he practically shouted.

“I … I just …” she faltered. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t see how much he cared about her. But he instinctively knew that if he tried to tell her, he’d mess it up, trip over his words, say the wrong thing. Or, if he miraculously managed to be eloquent in his declaration, Rae wouldn’t believe him. She wasn’t ready; he could see the fear at the back of her amber eyes.

“Rae, I’m your mate, right?” She nodded. “So, that means we listen to each other, talk to each other. Like you did for me with my gran last week. Y’don’t hafta apologize for being upset. It’s only bloody natural.” His voice had softened as his speech went on. He was worn out by the end of it, not used to saying so much.

Rae bumped his shoulder with hers. “You’re right,” she said matter-of-factly. She glanced at him cautiously, and said, “Thanks,” before leaning her head on his shoulder. She caught him off guard and he was surprised. She could probably feel his heart accelerate; he thought it might beat right out of his chest. With the same caution Rae exhibited, he slowly lowered his head to rest on hers and whispered, “Not a problem,” into the soft waves of her hair.

Once again, she broke contact first, sitting up and wiping under her eyes again. “Okay, we’re not gettin’ the Crowded House album. What else sounds good?” The “we” made Finn’s heart do another tiny somersault, but outwardly, he matched her business-like manner. “I was readin’ about a band in NME, Eels, I think they were called? They sounded good. I can ask Dave if he’s got them in.”

They stood up, and as Finn opened the door to the booth, he saw Archie waving at them from the Jazz section. He glanced back at Rae, who hadn’t seen him yet, and sighed. It had been a good night; he had more than enough to tide him over until the next time he could devise a meeting between just him and Rae. He looked up again, and said, “Y’alrigh’, Arch?” with just a tinge of sadness in his voice.

Rae looked up, smiling. “Hiya!”

“I saw Chloe in the street, and she told me you two were here,” Archie explained. “Have ya bought anythin’ yet?”

Rae and Finn both shook their heads in unison. “We just vetoed a selection,” Rae said.

Archie raised his eyebrows and looked over at Finn. “This true?” he asked.

“Yeah. We’re takin’ our time to figure out what to try next.” Finn said.


	2. Beautiful Freaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This follow-up took me an inordinate length of time to write. It’s been awhile since I posted any fics, so I almost feel more nervous about this one than any of the others. 
> 
> Also, this was written long before Series 2, or Bidwell's infamous tweet that let us know that Finn's mum wasn't in the picture. Before that, I had always imagined him with two parents.

John Nelson was making eggs. Not just any eggs, but his special melt-in-your-mouth scrambled eggs with fried potatoes, crispy bacon, and a slice of tomato. He wasn’t doing the full English. That was too many things to focus on. You didn’t get eggs that were soft but not runny, potatoes that were golden but not burnt, or bacon that was as crisp as a brand new ten pound note by juggling too many ingredients. 

His wife walked into the kitchen. “Smells delicious, love!” She raised her eyebrows as she snuck a piece of bacon off the tray. 

“Oi!” he protested. “Make yourself useful and call your son down from his room.” He took his apron off over his head and shooed her away.

She chuckled and walked up the stairs, pausing outside her son’s bedroom and leaning her head close to the door. She knew he was in there, but there wasn’t any music playing. Odd. Her son seemed to come with a soundtrack, so the silence was worrisome. She knocked lightly.

“Yeah?” Finn called out. 

“Food’s almost ready, if ya’d care to join us!” she said, as she opened the door to his room. She saw her son sitting in his armchair with a notebook, and several scribbled out pieces of paper lying around him. 

“Mum!” he shouted in protest of her presence in his inner sanctum. “I’ll be down in a minute, alrigh’?" 

"Okay! Sorry.” She gave Finn a goofy look, and on her way out tossed, “Hurry up or there won’t be any bacon left!” over her shoulder.

Back downstairs, John gave her a look that said, “Well?”

“He said he’d be down in a minute.” She sat down at the table. “Looked like he was working on something. Can’t be homework; it’s summer holiday.” They both chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, whatever it was, he was focused.” She piled another mound of potatoes on her plate and doused them in sauce. “You can make this any day of the week, love.”

* * *

Upstairs, Finn was working on a plan. A plan to get Rae on her own. His idea to take her for a meal had backfired, but he had gotten a few minutes alone with her at the record store before Archie showed up. Fucking Archie. He was fairly sure that Archie couldn’t have really liked Rae that much. He’d just walked up to her in the middle of the afternoon, in front of CHLOE, and asked her out. It was like he’d dared himself to do it. 

There was too much at stake, Finn felt, to be obvious and straight-forward about it. If it happened naturally, inevitably, that would be best. He’d have to be fairly sure of her feelings before he declared his own, and it had taken him weeks to figure out that he even liked Rae.

He figured his problem was that he had been too casual. He needed a solid plan. But it couldn’t be too obvious. It couldn’t sound, look, feel, smell or taste like a date. It had to appear perfectly natural to outside observers, but once they were together, he had to convince her it was more than just your typical mate-y hangout. 

Finn balled up another piece of paper. Except HOW was anything supposed to appear natural, when he was so anxious and excited? Every time he saw her, he got this jumpy feeling. Not just in his stomach, either. It took all the will he had not to bounce his knee or tap his foot whenever she was around. He used to be the cool one in the gang, but now he was decidedly hot and bothered.

He stood up and his stomach growled. Probably ravenous after all the exercise it had gotten at the pub earlier. Rae had been there, cracking everyone up with stories about how her mum’s new husband had been hiding out, doing chin ups in her doorway and the like. Finn’s mind kept drifting back to the hug they’d shared at the record shop. He’d tried to focus and join in the conversation, but Chloe had sat the other side of him and kept asking daft questions like what his favorite summer holiday had been and what did he usually eat for breakfast? “Are ya planning on becoming my biographer?” he’d muttered under his breath. Jesus. He didn’t want to be rude, but he kept looking away from Chloe, trying to catch Rae’s eye. They had made contact a few times, and Finn hoped he wasn’t imagining that her gaze had lingered a bit. Once, she rolled her eyes at him, indicating that Archie was being a right boring fucker, and he’d had to stifle a laugh.

He walked downstairs, shaking his head.

“Look who decided to join us!” his father declared jokingly. 

Finn pulled a face. “What are ya talkin’ about? I came right down.”

“It’s been ten minutes, love,” his mum said. He looked at their plates, which were almost clean. “Your plate’s in the oven.”

“Oh, right. Thanks. Sorry.” His parents couldn’t help but see how distracted he was. They gave each other a look, which Finn caught the tail end of as he came back to the table with his food. “Oi, what?”

“Nothin’!” his dad protested, not wanting to annoy his son. “Ya just seem … a little muddled. On edge, maybe? Everythin’ okay?”

Finn nodded and took a bite, mumbling a “yeah” through his food.

“Ya can talk to us about whatever might be on yer mind, y'know?” he continued. “We’ve been through some stuff, too. Y'never know, we might understand!”

“I know, Dad. It’s really no big deal. Thanks, anyway.” He ducked his head and plowed through the rest of his plate, eager to avoid more questioning and lecturing, and get back to the problem at hand.

* * *

The next morning, Rae was sitting on her bed, fidgeting with her edges of her sleeves. She and Finn had talked on the phone every other day for over a week. He called her, then she called him, and back and forth, and it was his turn. She couldn’t upset the delicate ecosystem they had managed to maintain by calling him out of turn. Their conversations were sometimes short and to the point (“Will ya be at the pub later on?” “Yeah, s'pose.” “Cool, see ya there.” “‘Kay, bye.”) But sometimes they were longer and rambling, about music and lyrics and what they meant or didn’t mean. 

It was all new to her. Finn never actually said anything that made her believe he wanted to be more than friends. He just liked talking to her, apparently. Right? That’s what he’d said. She didn’t know how to read the signs, so she just stopped trying. After all, why would he like her like that? They’d be mates, and that would have to be good enough. She still prayed every night to god the universe or whatever that he didn’t start going out with Chloe, not out of spite, but because it would be too painful to have to listen to all the gory details. However, her friend didn’t seem to be making much headway with him, either. Maybe he was secretly gay, too, and would go out with Archie? Rae giggled out loud at the thought when the phone rang.

Her heart leapt straight up about eight inches, lodged itself in her throat, and started pounding away.

From the bottom of the stairs, she heard her mother call, “Are ya gonna get that?”

She swallowed. “Y-yeah! I’ve got it!” She dashed to her mum’s room and picked up the phone, clearing her throat again for good measure. “Hello?" 

"Rae? Y'alright?” It was him.

“Yeah, why?" 

"Y'just sound out of breath. Hope I’m not interruptin’ anythin’.”

“No! I mean, I was workin’ on summat,” Lie! “… but … I just … got to a good stoppin’ place.” What was she ON about? She was glad he couldn’t see her, as her arm flailed about before settling on her hip.

“Well … good.” There was a pause while Finn cleared HIS throat. “I was wond'rin …” he started.

After a long pause, Rae started wondering what he was wondering and asked, “Yeah?”

“I was doin’ a clear out of some old music and was gonna take the lot into the record shop to see if I could get any credit for it. Jus’ wond'rin’ if you had anythin’ you wanted to trade in; we could go together, if ya want." 

"Er, well …” Well! Was this something? She knew she’d say yes, but did she actually have anything to get rid of? She DID have those CDs Chloe had returned to her before the sexy party. But they were utter shite, stuff she’d liked back in year 7. She couldn’t let him see those! “I’ll have to take a look, but I’m sure there are a few things I should unload.” She took a breath. “When were ya thinkin’ of goin’?”

“This afternoon?” he sounded a little unsure. “What time’s good for you?”

Anytime, all the time, my time is your time, she thought. Except … she had her appointment with Kester. “Uh, I’m … meetin’ someone at four, so it’d have to be before that or after …” Shit. If she said five, he might guess what her “meeting” was. What else took an hour? “… sometime.” Smooth. Very smooth.

“Oh. Okay. How abou’ one?" 

"Sounds good. Y'just wanna meet there?”

“Yeah, that works. See ya then.”

“Yeah, cool. Bye.”

And that was it. Rae replaced the handset and sat staring for a moment. “What does it MEAN?” she seethed. She couldn’t ask anyone, because she didn’t want to admit to her friends that she liked him, and she couldn’t ask her mum, because, well, she just couldn’t. She’d rather die than ask for advice from her divorced middle-aged mother who just married a guy so he could stay in the country. She shuffled back to her room and started going through her music, looking for any albums she could cull from the herd.

* * *

Well, no one was going to think a trip to the record shop in broad bloody daylight was a date. Finn sighed to himself, but it was the best he could come up with. Archie was on at the leisure centre, and Chop had a ten hour shift at the garage. And neither Chloe nor Izzy were big enough into music that she would be tempted to ask them along. Jesus, he’d put a lot of thought into this. He remembered the hours he’d spent making that tape for the drive to Knebworth. How he had to subtly steer the car assignments so she’d be with him, and all for nothing. He had never had to work so hard for a girl before. Hell, he’d never had to work to get a girl’s interest, full stop. He’d started to ask himself if she was even worth the hassle a number of times, but he knew the answer. She absolutely was. 

He looked over the albums his dad had said he could trade in, because his own music collection was too comprehensive to just get rid of something. His influences were interconnected like a spider’s web, and you couldn’t just yank a few albums out without undermining the whole thing. So, he hoped she didn’t know too much about Steely Dan or Bad Company. Maybe she’d just think he had gone through some weird classic rock phase. 

* * *

In the end, Rae decided to bring a few of the CDs Chloe had returned to her. There was nothing else she felt comfortable discarding, even to hang out with Finn. She kept Take That as a keepsake, because she and Chloe had made up a lip-synched routine to A Million Love Songs, and that was a happy memory. But BoyZone, Celine Dion, and the rest had to go. When Finn saw them and raised his eyebrows, she just said, “Found 'em in the back of my closet. Birthday presents from a million years ago. Prob'ly won’t even take 'em, but I had to get 'em out of my room, they were pollutin’ it from the inside.” Finn sputtered out a laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Once ya let the rot in, it grows like mold.” They shared a smile, and walked up to the counter. 

“Alrigh’, Dave?” Dave nodded at Finn. “Got some stuff to trade in for credit." 

Dave flipped through the few albums Finn had brought, making a variety of faces to signify his level of approval for each. Finally, he drawled, "Yeah, these’ll sell. I’ll take 'em all for … five pounds store credit.” Finn knew this game. “Ten pounds, mate. You’ll sell Pretzel Logic for that alone!” Dave squinted. “Alrigh’,” he sighed. He didn’t try and split the difference, knowing Finn spent most money he got in the shop. 

He turned to Rae. “Okay, sweetheart, what’ve ya got for me?” She looked down at her bag sheepishly and pulled out a few CDs, all pop dross. “Ya can use 'em for coasters for all I care,” she said, “I jus’ can’t bring myself to throw away music. Even if it is shit.” Dave glanced over at Finn, whose eyes flicked over to meet his. There seemed to be significance in this glance and, for some reason, Dave decided to be magnanimous to a friend of Finn’s. “Well, they look to be in mint condition. I might be able to flog them. Let’s say … a pound each?” Rae smiled in disbelief. “Yeah? Great!” Dave wrote them each out a slip, but knew they’d cash in their credit that afternoon.

* * * 

So, it wasn’t a date. Finn didn’t even know if he wanted to go on a “date” with anyone, especially since people seemed to make such an almighty fuss about them. But it was something, this sharing of time and space. When you’re young, you like people and dislike people, and don’t much think about why. Finn was worried because while he’d distrusted Rae at first, he’d never not liked her. Now he liked her so much it was a little scary. Yet, he still didn’t know how she felt about him. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t work her out. She hadn’t been totally rude to him since the sexy party, but she’d been a little more stand-offish in person. Their phone conversations had been pretty easy, though. He just needed to calm down. She didn’t hate him anymore, that much was clear. He shouldn’t expect miracles. 

Another worrying thing was that it took a conscious, physical effort not to stare at her all the time. He focused his gaze at the punk section in front of him, but soon his eyes sought her out on their own. He figured it was because her face was constantly changing and Finn found it hard to decipher many of her expressions. She seemed to experience such a spectrum of emotions, ones that Finn had never imagined possible. He knew she made him feel new things all the time, so he couldn’t imagine what it was like to be at the source of all that. Her face was like the sea, in a perpetual state of change. Though, from far away, to the unobservant eye, not much was going on. He’d only been to the seaside a couple of times on holiday, but he could sit and stare at the water for hours, and often would. Rae was as mesmerizing to him as the waves.

* * *

Sure, Rae fantasized about sleeping with him. She’d never taken those books of Mrs. Dewhurst’s to the charity shop. Instead, she read her way through them in under a week, and most of them now naturally fell open to the best parts. Finn was the man she imagined in all those scenarios. It was hard to concentrate on choosing a new album when she kept visualizing him in an armored chest plate or a silk shirt open to the waist. But, when she managed to focus, she thought that this being mates thing wasn’t too bad. 

She’d actually let herself relax a bit, flipping through the vinyl. She started out determined to find some cool album that would prove her musical superiority, but then her mind wandered. In a section of Van Morrison albums, she slipped sideways into a reverie … thinking about putting the album on in Finn’s room, which she hadn’t even seen yet, and lying side by side on his floor … no, on his BED (even better), as they listened to Morrison’s husky voice sing about wanting to rock your gypsy soul or being sweet as honey. 

There was something ABOUT that voice that did things to her. It wasn’t necessarily cool or modern, but it existed on an elemental level. You were either affected by it or you weren’t, and she was. Her imagination took over and she pictured her hand intertwining effortlessly with Finn’s and then twisting into each others’ arms, sort of revolving into one another’s orbit, spinning suspended in space, atoms joining. The image was as strange as it was spiritual, and turned her on as much as page 148 of Caesar’s Last Wife. She was trembling on a new frequency, transfixed, when Finn slid up next to her, absent-mindedly brushing his arm against hers, assaulting a thousand nerve endings in the process. 

Rae jittered nervously, and Finn seemed to notice she was a little off-balance. “Y'alright?” he asked. She nodded quickly. He noticed the album. “D'ya like Van Morrison?”

Rae glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “He’s got some decent stuff. And you’ve got to listen to the people that you like to listen to, like to listen to. Does that even make sense? You know, your influences’ influences.”

There was a pause that felt heavy and wide; it didn’t separate them, but encompassed them both. Eventually, he nodded and said quietly, “I know exactly what you mean.” And she could tell he really, really did.

* * *

Finn was a teenage boy, so wanking was a regular routine. He didn’t have a wall chart or preferred time of day, but business was taken care of. However, since the sexy party, Rae had been occupying his thoughts during these moments more and more. At first, he’d gotten himself off in response to having seen her, but once, he’d gotten an erection sitting next to her at the pub. He’d had to let her go up to get the next round, for fear she and everyone else would see. From then on, he made sure to masturbate in preparation for meeting her, to lessen the chances of that happening again. He’d done the deed before heading out to meet her at the record shop but, apparently, that hadn’t been enough today.

Ever since he’d brushed her arm a minute ago, with a mind that was anything but absent, he was buzzing. He tried to act normal, but as he asked her about Van Morrison, all he could picture was gently placing the record back in the bin and flinging Rae across the bargain CD rack. The thought of doing it in the record shop made him vibrate with arousal. And when she said that you had to listen to your influences’ influences, he thought his heart would burst. He had to cover, and started asking her a bunch of questions to distract both her and himself. “Do ya have a favorite tune of his? Or album? Who’d he influence that ya like best?”

Rae joked in response, but her face was flushed, “Are you writin’ my biography? Jesus.”

Finn blushed, as well. “Nah, jus’ thought we were gettin’ to know each other better. Didn’t mean to pry or anythin’.”

Rae grinned at him.

“Wait, were you listenin’ in the other day when Chloe was grillin’ me at the pub?”

Her grin grew wider. “Might’ve been.”

“Why didn’t ya save me? It was bloody torture talkin’ about myself for that long!”

“Yeah, I know. Ya don’t like talkin’ to anybody.” Her eyes flicked up from the album in her hands. “Well …”

Their eyes met and now Finn didn’t care if the album was handled gently. He’d happily warp a hundred classic records, if it meant he got to be with Rae. He couldn’t speak for her, but he felt more electricity in those glances than any of the times he’d had sex. He still wasn’t sure if she felt the same, but was beginning to wonder how she couldn’t. There was something about that face of hers. He was already mesmerized by her myriad expressions, the thought of the contortions her face would make during sex drove him to distraction. Rae broke their gaze, looking down almost shyly. Finn glanced surreptitiously at his watch. It was nearly two-thirty. Time for the second (or was it seventy-second?) part of his plan.

With what he hoped was the epitome of nonchalance, he said, “Oh, hey. I never picked up that Eels CD we talked about last time. I’ll just see if they’ve got it.”

Finn had made sure they didn’t. He flipped through the stacks in the New Releases, and in Rock, but it wasn’t there. Because he had hidden the two copies they had in World Music earlier in the day. “Hmmm, not here. I’ll check with Dave.”

He walked up to the counter, glancing back at Rae, “Hey, Dave. I can’t seem to find that new band I was asking about … Eels?”

Dave sighed. “Whadya mean? I thought we had–” Finn furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head to shut Dave up. “Oh, I mean, no, we just sold the last one. No shipment for another week.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes as if to say,  _Kids, man_. 

Finn nodded in thanks, then set about looking dejected. “Aw, man. I was really hopin’ to pick it up today.” He looked at Rae and with his best oh-hey-this-totally-just-occurred-to-me face said, “D'ya wanna come with me to HMV to look for it?”

Rae looked thoughtful, and Finn couldn’t tell which way she was leaning. It was across town, maybe a ten minute walk, but he had another idea.

“We could just hop on my scooter and be there in two minutes, if yer worried about yer appointment.”

 She tensed at his suggestion. “What d'ya mean, appointment?" 

"Ya jus’ said you were meetin’ someone at four …” Finn trailed off. Had she made it up, because she wanted an out? Did she think hanging out with him for more than a couple hours was a terrible fate? He scratched the back of his neck nervously. 

“Oh, yeah. I am. Sorry.” She looked sheepish. “But I’ve got time, sure.”

* * *

Rae had been having such an amazing afternoon. But Finn mentioning her appointment brought her back to reality. For awhile, she’d allowed herself to entertain the thought of the two of them being more than just friends, while in the same space. She thought about it all the time when she was alone in her room, but she was safe there. She’d told Kester she thought she was in love, and what it felt like, but hadn’t trusted herself enough to say Finn’s name out loud, even to her therapist, with the promise of doctor-patient confidentiality to keep it officially secret.

The constant reminders that she wasn’t like everyone else always took the wind out of her sails. She followed Finn out to where his scooter was parked, but she didn’t allow herself to feel excited. 

His voice caught her attention. “Y'ever ridden on one of these before?”

Rae shook her head. “It’s not that far. I can walk and meet ya there, if you don’t want … undue wear and tear on yer bike.” She chuckled at her own self-deprecation.

Finn knitted his eyebrows together. “What’re ya on about? I’ve had two blokes from football crammed on the back of here after the last game of the season.You’ll be nothin’ compared to those knobheads.” He handed her the helmet. “I passed me license with flying colors and never been in an accident, if you’re worried.”

“No, no. I’m fine. First time for everythin’, right?” She looked up at him, her anxiety melting away as she met his gaze. What she didn’t say, couldn’t say, was that she harbored the wild hope that he could be there with her for all her future firsts. She was only sorry he couldn’t have been her first real kiss. 

He got on the bike and waved at her to join him. “Come on, then.” He started to put his helmet on, while Rae assessed the situation, which also happened to include his arse … which she’d already been distracted by too many times to count. What would be the best way to get on? Skinny girls never had worry about how to do things like this, they probably just flung their lithe little limbs delicately over the seat, practically levitating above it, taking up no space at all. Meanwhile, she would probably occupy so much of the seat, Finn would be forced forward and bruise his bollocks or something. She sighed. She’d just thought about his arse and his bollocks in the space of thirty seconds. How could she ever hope to just be his mate?

Finn sighed in tandem. “I won’t bite ya, Rae,” he said through the open visor of his helmet. She nodded nervously, then shrugged, too worried to even have a dirty thought about his suggestion. She slid in from the back of the seat, balancing herself with one hand on the back of the bike. She had to instinctively use her other hand to steady herself on Finn’s shoulder as she settled into a comfortable position that she hoped wouldn’t crowd him. He turned around to give her a reassuring smile, flipped his visor down and tapped his helmet, reminding her to put hers on. As she did, she worried for the briefest of seconds that even her head was too big, but it seemed that it was meant to be a snug fit.

Rae tentatively placed her hands on Finn’s sides. He took off slowly and then hit the gas, causing Rae to lean forward and grip the sides of his leather jacket. He didn’t squirm under her touch, but she didn’t want to press her luck by linking her arms around his torso. She glanced at the centimeter of skin visible between his helmet and jacket collar. She could make out a few tiny freckles and the  almost translucent hairs. She shook her head slightly, and looked at the trees and buildings flashing past. In only a few minutes, they were in front of HMV. Rae immediately dropped her hands, embarrassed when she accidentally brushed her hand against his hip in the process. Finn twisted around and tried to say something with his helmet still on. 

He took his helmet off. “Tha’ wasn’t too bad, was it?” he said, in what Rae thought sounded like a jokingly hopeful tone.

* * *

Rae shook her head, taking off her helmet. “No, not too bad. Apart from your maniac acceleration!” Finn chuckled in what he hoped was a convincing manner. “Yeah, sorry about that. Throttle sticks from time to time.” He didn’t let her know he was disappointed it didn’t cause her to hug his chest. Finn stowed the helmets and they both sauntered into the corporate music store. It wasn’t as cool as Dave’s shop, and Finn felt slightly traitorous going in, but it facilitated the scooter ride, as well as the extension of their … whatever this was. 

Finn looked around for the right section. He didn’t know HMV inside and out like Dave’s. When he found it, he gestured towards it and he and Rae headed over. They had a lot of stock … more than Dave, but it was in disarray. Alphabetical was a guideline, not a rule, and it was clear they’d have to do a bit of scouring. Finn started at the beginning of the Es and Rae took the other side. As they worked their way to the middle, Finn started to worry. Today hadn’t gone exactly as he’d hoped. He wanted her to look in his eyes and to recognize how he felt, and to look back and see how she felt stated plainly in her soft brown eyes. That wasn’t going to happen, he realized. Someone would have to take a leap. Would he have to go home and start planning how best to jump? 

Just then, Rae spoke. “I think this is what you’re looking for?” His heart lurched in his chest. He looked over, only to see her holding a CD aloft. It had a white cover showing a little girl with freakishly huge eyes crouching over a daisy. He knew it well. Rae looked back at it. “Beautiful Freak, huh?” She turned the case over to look at the track listing, and seemed impressed by the titles. “Hmm. Looks sound enough." 

She handed it over to him, and when he reached forward to take it, he brushed his fingertips across the outside of her thumb. She froze for a second. "Sorry,” he mumbled.

“No problem,” she said, as she clasped one hand around the other. 

Suddenly, he saw how silly this whole afternoon had been. She didn’t know how he felt. He’d over-thought the whole thing, muddled his message. He wished he could take her back to Dave’s, pull one of the CDs he’d hidden off the shelf, take her into a listening booth and just … be.

* * *

“Well, I’d better … ” Rae trailed off. She didn’t want to be late, and she had to go the roundabout way, so Finn didn’t accidentally see where she was headed. 

“Yeah. S'pose so.” Finn looked down, chewing his lip. “Will I, that is, will ya–” he stopped himself. 

“What?” Rae asked, not sure what he was asking. She adjusted her backpack nervously, and noticed him looking at her hand as she did. The fingers of his right hand drummed out a rhythm on his leg. 

“Jus’ wond'rin’ if you’ll be at the pub later on. I think Chop and Archie’ll be there.”

“'Course! Th'alternative’s watching’ my mum and Karim makin’ out in front of Gardener’s World.”

Finn couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, anythin’s better than that, I bet. Even another borin’ night at the pub." 

Before she could stop herself, words came tumbling out of her mouth. "The pub’s not borin’! I used to dream about hangin’ out at a pub when I was in–I mean, when I was younger.” She looked down. She’d almost let it slip, and the second reminder of her madness started to lay her low when Finn responded:

“Yeah, well. As long as the right crowd’s in, it can be alrigh’.” Finn looked straight at her, all joking put aside now. “Brilliant, even.”

Rae nodded, hope coursing through her veins. Sometimes when he looked at her, she forgot how different she was, how alone she was, because it seemed that this amazingly fit guy felt some of the same things she did. She smiled and said, “I know exactly what you mean.”


	3. These Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part to the unexpected trilogy. I have strayed spectacularly far from the original brief, and this chapter ended up being another Herculean labor, but I got these two ideas in my head and they resulted in this. It’s a sort of alternative ending to the first series (written before Series 2 aired.)

Finn was feeling fidgety. Had been for a week, maybe more. His fingertips were itchy from wanting to touch her. He had allowed his arm to brush against hers from time to time; occasionally, their knees bumped “accidentally” under the table, but he was getting desperate to feel her. Not in a pervy way, but god, he wanted to hold her hand so much. 

She was always so covered up. It was August, and she wore long sleeve t-shirts, layered under another shirt, with jeans or leggings. He liked it better when she wore leggings, because he knew she was right there, just below the black fabric. It wasn’t like he expected her to wear skimpy outfits like Chloe, but he would love, for once, to brush his hand against her and feel her skin. 

It was the day after the non-date. It wasn’t a phone-call day, but everyone was showing up to the pub each afternoon out of habit, and then again in the evening after dinner. Finn was already at their table, and Archie was off somewhere, maybe the loo, but his half-drunk pint was on the table, opposite Finn. Rae had come to the pub last night, like she said she would, but she’d been quieter than usual, and sat on the other side of Chloe, so he hadn’t been able to chat to her. It hadn’t been the brilliant night he’d hoped for. He drummed his fingers on the table. The door opened and Rae walked in, silhouetted against the daylight. His breath got stuck in his windpipe for a second. He coughed and took a sip of beer. She walked over, flashing a quick smile, before looking at the extra pint glass with a raised eyebrow. 

“Archie’ll be back in a minute.” She nodded, her eyes darting back and forth from the seat next to Finn and the seat next to Archie’s glass, clearly debating. The door opened again and it was Chloe. Finn quickly gestured to the seat next to him, “Are ya waitin’ for an engraved invitation?” Rae laughed and sat down next to him. 

He relaxed against the wooden bench as Chloe approached the table. “Y'alright?” she chirped. Rae and Finn nodded in tandem. Finn took another sip of his beer. Chloe, seeing that Rae didn’t have a glass of anything, asked, “Not drinkin’ today, Rae?” as she plopped down in the seat opposite her friend. 

“Erm, I’m alrigh’ for the minute, Chloe.” Rae stuck her backpack under the table, a strained smile on her face. 

Just then, Archie joined the group. “Alrigh, Rae? How’s it goin’, Chlo?” Both girls nodded in greeting. “I’ll get this round, shall I? It’s a snakebite for you, right, Rae? And … a Bacardi and diet for you, Chloe?” He inclined his head towards Finn’s glass. Finn nodded.

“Cheers, Archie,” Rae said. 

“Yeah, thanks, Archie!” Chloe smiled. 

He walked to the bar and the air at the table throbbed with an uncomfortable silence. 

Another flash of light from the pub door revealed Izzy, who practically skipped to the table. “Hiya, everyone!” She spotted Archie at the bar, and waved an excited hello to him. She sat down at the end of the table, Rae on her left, Chloe on her right. Her shoulders hunched up around her ears as she asked, “So, what’s goin’ on?” No one responded. 

Finn could barely concentrate on maintaining his aloof exterior. He shifted in his seat, bumping his knee against Rae’s. “Sorry,” he muttered. She glanced over and shook her head. What he really wanted to do was ask her why she’d run off an hour before her appointment. He wanted to know what that appointment was, and who it was with. More than anything, he just wanted to talk to her, without the gang around. But he’d tried. The failed attempts were piling up, but she didn’t seem to understand, so maybe he should just take the hint. Maybe she didn’t like him like that, and was trying to let him know.

Izzy was rabbiting on about something, but Finn would have failed an exam on the topic. He kept glancing at Rae and then around the pub to conceal the fact that he was looking at her. Chop, who had sat on the other end of the table from Izzy, leaned over at one point and asked, “Y'alright, mate?” Finn nodded, but felt the desire to talk to Rae growing and growing, making the pub seem claustrophobic. He tried to focus on the conversation happening around him.

Finn noticed Chloe looking over at him, and he gave her a smirk as he took a swig of beer. Chloe leaned forward over her arms, hands clasped. “So, have ya got any more anonymous love letters, Finn?” Everyone stopped their side conversations to hear his answer. He’d forgotten all about the note in the pink envelope that Izzy’d read out to everyone. So much had happened since then, both good and bad. He took a drag on the cigarette he’d just lit and shook his head. 

Chloe furrowed her brow. “Really?” she asked. “I wouldn’t imagine someone would go off ya so quick.” She tossed her hair and there was a pause, as if everyone was considering her words. Finn cleared his throat and shrugged. He had been fidgeting with his tobacco pouch under the table, and before he really knew what he was doing, he found himself writing the word HELP on Rae’s thigh. She was in mid-sip and sputtered slightly into her snakebite, eyes widening. Pulling the pint glass away from her lips, she swallowed and tried to hide her smile by wiping her mouth with her forefinger and thumb, and then said, “Chloe! Why don’t ya tell everyone about your holiday in Malaga two years ago? Remember, that donkey ride?” Everyone started laughing in anticipation of a good story and Finn glanced over at Rae, only to see her peering back at him out of the corner of her eye. He took another drag on his cigarette and boldly wrote THANKS in the same spot.

Rae dropped her hands to her lap, and ran her pinky nails along her thumbs. Then her hand darted over to his leg and her forefinger quickly traced out two letters–OK. Finn wished she’d written something longer, like YOURE WELCOME or that Welsh place name that was twice as long as the alphabet, but he’d take what he could get. They both leaned back into the wooden bench and listened to, or pretended to, Chloe’s story about getting stuck on a runaway donkey.

* * *

When she was younger, Rae would spend hours at the park on the swings, swooping back and forth, up and down, until it started to get dark. Later, when she closed her eyes to go to sleep, she still felt like she was swinging. It was the same with Finn’s fingertip on her thigh. She lay in the dark, blinking into the silence thinking maybe she’d dreamt it, except for the tingling on her scarred skin. It was like the letters had been branded on her leg and were pulsating under her Care Bear duvet. She lightly ran her hand over the spot and when she finally fell asleep, it was with a smile.

Rae was jolted awake by a sharp rap on her door. She groaned and rolled herself toward the wall to hide from the daylight coming in around the curtains. “Rae?” Her mum’s voice penetrated the fog of sleep. “I’m headin’ to the jumble sale, Rachel, if ya wanna come along!" 

Rae inhaled sharply and opened one eye to look at her clock. Half-eight. On a summer morning. With only a couple of weeks until school began again. Bollocks. But she’d said she wanted to go; she needed some new clothes, and jumble sales were so cheap; her mum would pay for everything. "Yeah, I’m comin’! Jus’ gimme a minute!" 

"Well don’t take forever! The best stuff’ll be gone before we even get there! I’m leavin’ in five minutes!” Her mother pounded down the stairs. She ran a hand over her face and stared over at her dresser for a minute. Then she remembered the night before, and sprang out of bed with a grin. It was strange to be excited about a boy and have actual moments to replay, instead of a bunch of romanticized scenarios she made up herself. But she hadn’t imagined Finn’s forefinger tracing letters on her leg, she hadn’t imagined the scooter ride with her hands on his sides, she hadn’t imagined their hug in the listening booth. Yet, she didn’t trust herself to interpret the facts without bias. Before this summer, she hadn’t really had friends who were boys, certainly not boys who might be more than friends. Now it was her mind that did the swinging, from wanting to believe that Finn really liked her to feeling that there was no way he actually could. 

She was the youngest person at the sale by two decades or more, but she didn’t feel weird, because she’d been coming to these since she was little. When she was eight, she was too young to feel weird, but after the girls at school made fun of her for wearing out-dated clothes, she got stroppy with her mum, stomped her feet, and refused to wear anything from the “smelly old pile of crap!" 

As she got bigger, in more ways than one, she slowly accepted that this was how she got clothes. Not all of them, but enough that she was typically wearing at least one second-hand item a day. There were other indignities that made her stomp her feet now (value sanitary towels, for example.)

She’d also get cheap paperbacks there. The two foot high stacks of books that dotted the perimeter of her room were accumulated over years of waiting until the second day of the sale and getting an entire bag for 50p. The women who ran the sale were tired of seeing the same items circulate through year after year, and would slash the prices at the end just to get rid of stuff.

This time, after she shoved half a dozen men’s t-shirts in her mum’s wire trolley, she headed over to the tables in the corner of the room, where the books were kept. Only this time, there were more than books. Someone had donated three crates of old vinyl and Rae made a beeline, sitting cross-legged on the floor in order to pore over them. It was the first day, but she didn’t want to risk the records she wanted going home with someone else. She couldn’t deny that as she studied the albums, she was speculating about which ones Finn would choose if he were here. Then she almost cursed at herself. Yes, she liked Finn, but she wanted to be her own person, with her own opinions. She worried about letting a boy change what she thought and felt. But, the two of them had such an affinity. Even if it never amounted to more than friendship, she couldn’t deny he was her equal in understanding and appreciating good music. 

In the end, she chose three albums: The Velvet Underground & Nico, Nico - Chelsea Girl, and Nick Drake - Five Leaves Left. She knew that the first two were albums Morrissey liked from her encyclopedic memory of NME articles she’d read, either in the library or at the corner shop, scanning them breathlessly, her eyes darting up to the counter every ten seconds in fearful anticipation of the moment the owner would catch her and say, "If you’re not plannin’ on buyin’ that magazine, put it down and get out! This isn’t a readin’ room!” As for the third, the picture of Nick Drake looking all forlorn on the cover appealed to her. She found all three together in the first crate, but flipped through each individual album, just in case she missed something.

Her mum had already paid and was waiting in the car, sunglasses on, fingers tapping the steering wheel along to the Bee Gees tune on the radio. She spotted Rae in the rearview and craned around to shout out the open window, “Come on, I haven’t got all day!” Rae placed the records gently in the back seat of the car, and scowled at the side of her mum’s head as she put on her safety belt, crossed her arms, and sank into the seat.

When they got home, Rae walked over to the hi-fi in the lounge, eager to listen to her new music, annoyed that she had to do it downstairs, with her mum and Karim within earshot. She carefully lifted the clear plastic lid, gently slid the Nico album out of its sleeve, and placed it on the turntable with delicate precision. She swiveled the knob on the stereo, lifted the needle arm like it was made of spun sugar, and was about to place it on the outside groove of the record, when she noticed the needle was broken. She rolled her eyes and sighed. Fucking typical.

“Mum!” she shouted between clenched teeth. When there was no answer, she yelled louder. “MUM!”

She heard a giggle followed by a sigh. “What is it, Rachel?” her mum shouted back.

“The record player’s broken! Do we have any more needles?” Not that she’d know how to replace it, but maybe Karim knew. He was practically mute and a pain in her arse, but he did seem handy. 

“Not that I know of!” Linda shouted back. 

Rae sighed, stood up, and walked over to the next room, where Linda and Karim were snuggling in front of some mindless quiz show. “Well, how did it get broken?” she asked.

Linda huffed. “I don’t see how that matters! It’s my record player, anyway. I bought ya that ghetto blaster or whatever ya call it, so you could listen to your own stuff upstairs." 

Rae couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling once again. "And I DO, except for when it’s a record. I wasn’t gonna blast it; I just wanna to see if they’re any good.” She stared at her mother for a moment. “So, we definitely don’t have any more needles?”

“No! Look, I’m sorry about it. We got a little … carried away the other day, listenin’ to one of Karim’s favorite records.” Linda failed to repress her grin. “Some French bloke. Anyway, we bumped into it and scratched the hell out of his record and the needle broke. Karim was gutted.” She twisted her head to look at Rae. “Hasn’t one of your friends got a record player?”

Rae rolled her eyes. Clearly, her mum had no appreciation for the personal nature of music. She thought music was something in the background of your life, a mild soundtrack that could be anything. As far as she could tell, her mother didn’t have a favorite band or song, just listened to whatever crap was on the radio in the car or some random French crooner to placate Karim. How could she ever hope to understand the importance of listening to a new album alone? Letting the music wash over you until the lyrics started to make sense, anticipating which songs would be your favorites?  

It was practically a spiritual experience for Rae. If her mum let her, she would light a dozen candles as blessings to the rock gods or novenas to the holy spirit of amazing tunes, letting the flames burn bright as she listened to each new record. Music was her religion, her solace, maybe even her savior. 

She pondered who among her friends had a record player. Chloe definitely didn’t. Maybe the shop hadn’t had a pink one, and she didn’t want it to clash with her decor. Izzy wasn’t the type to listen to records. Chop told everyone he shared a room with his two brothers, so she doubted there was room for a turntable, and she could only imagine how rank a room shared by three lads must be. That left … Archie or Finn. 

If he did have a turntable, Archie would probably want to chat to her the whole time she was trying to absorb the new tunes. She loved him, but the boy had verbal diarrhea. If it wasn’t history or bands, it was the love that dare not speak its name. She knew she was the only person he had to confide in and she felt a bit shit for ruling him out because of his tendency to chat, but she really just wanted to listen to her records.

Which left Finn. He’d brought some albums to the record store to exchange for credit, so he MUST have a record player. He was unlikely to talk her ear off while she was trying to soak up the new music. Furthermore, if she were honest with herself, he was the only one of the gang she could imagine understanding what new music meant. And, he was Finn. AND. It was her day to call. Could be fate. She looked at the time. Almost noon. Deep breath, count to ten.

She picked up the downstairs telephone and peered around the corner into the lounge. Her mum and Karim were otherwise occupied, so there was no danger of being overheard. More deep breathing, another quick count under her breath. She took so much time preparing that the monotonous buzz of the dial tone changed to a loud beeping. She pressed the button to hang up, and began her breathing and counting process once again before dialing the number from memory. She’d never forget it. In fifty years’ time, she would still be able to recite those digits by heart.

It was ringing. 

Her deep breathing had become shallow and she almost wished no one would pick up. Maybe he was out. But no, a second later, someone answered. “Hello?” It was Finn, sounding a little out of breath. 

“Hi, Finn?” she asked, sure, but not wanting to sound it. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s Rae.”

“I know,” he said.

“Oh. Well,” she paused for a moment. “Is this a bad time?”

“No!” She could hear him clear his throat. “I mean, now’s fine. What’s up?”

* * *

Finn heard Rae hesitate; her breath seemed a little quick. “I have a favor to ask, but say no if you’re busy or whatever.” Typical Rae, not wanting anyone to feel obligated to help her. 

He smiled, hoping she wouldn’t hear it in his voice. “Okay. How can I help?" 

"Well, I got a few albums at this, um, sale. And I came home to find my mum and Karim broke the needle on our record player, and we don’t have any replacements.” Finn heard her take a deep breath. “If you’re not doin’ anythin’, do ya … do ya think I could come over and listen to ‘em at yours?”

It was Finn’s turn for quick, shallow breaths. He swallowed, the seconds seeming to stretch and slow down while his mind raced. Answer her! his brain shouted. “Y-yeah. Absolutely!” Too much, too much, he thought. “I mean, I’ve got nothing on this afty. When were ya thinkin’?”

“I could come over whenever.” Rae heard another giggle from the lounge. “Sooner the better, really, or I’ll be further traumatized by my mother’s rampant sex life.”

Finn laughed. “Come over now, then. D'ya know the address?” She didn’t, so he gave it to her, and she said she’d be on her way.

As Finn placed the handset in the cradle, he had a moment of panic. What was the state of his room? He dashed up the stairs to survey the damage. Not too bad, really. He grabbed the few pieces of clothing strewn around and shoved them into the laundry basket. He straightened his duvet and kicked his battered old football under the bed. He changed his jeans and debated whether to spritz on more CK One. He decided against; he didn’t want to appear to be trying too hard. He sat on his bed and peered out the window, debating where was best to wait for her, when his dad stuck his head in the door. “Hey, there!”

Finn jumped and then sighed. “Dad! What’re ya doin’ in here?”

“Yer door was open; thought I heard ya talkin’ on the phone. Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Jus’ havin’ a friend 'round, if that’s okay." 

"Yeh, no problem! Should I make some sandwiches? Have ya eaten? Has … yer friend … eaten?" 

"Don’t worry about it, Dad. If we get hungry, we’ll make somethin’.” Finn sighed. He knew his dad was fishing, wanting to know who it was. 

Instead of going back downstairs, his dad leaned against the door frame, smiling. 

“Are ya gonna just stand there?” Finn was exasperated.

“This friend … wouldn’t happen ta be a girl, would she?" 

Finn bristled at his father’s joking. "If ya must know, yes. It’s my mate, Rae. She’s bringing over a coupla records.” His dad waggled his bushy eyebrows at Finn. “That’s it!”

“This the Rae ya talk to on the phone? The one who had the party?” Finn didn’t say anything; these felt like rhetorical questions. His set jaw was answer enough for John. “Mmm-hmm. Well, have fun, son.” He turned to head downstairs, throwing “Not TOO much, mind!” over his shoulder as he did.

Finn picked up a pillow from his bed and threw it at his father’s retreating figure. John’s laughter echoed in the stairway.

* * *

Rae took yet another deep breath and glanced at herself in the mirror. No food on her face or on her clothes, as good as it was going to get. She smoothed her hair over her ears into a clip. Then, she put on her red hightops, grabbed her bag and picked the albums up off her bed. They were too big to fit in her backpack, so she’d have to carry them.

She headed down the stairs and paused at the front door. “I’m going out, be back later!” She waited for a response, and when she didn’t hear one, flounced out the front, banging the door closed behind her.

When she heard where Finn lived, she was surprised. It was only a few streets away, but she had gone to an all-girls school, and had kept herself to herself for the most part over the last few years. The Green Lane Gang and some of the mouthier girls at school made walking around town similar to playing Russian roulette. The bullets were already in the chamber, and she was bound to encounter them sooner or later, shooting her down every time they met.

As Rae walked to Finn’s house, fingers gripping the records so she wouldn’t drop them, she was so focused on not freaking out about actually seeing the inside of Finn’s house, maybe even his bedroom, that for once she didn’t notice Big G and his shadows following her. They must have slipped out of a side street. It wasn’t until she heard the unmistakeable chuckle of the ringleader that she stopped in her tracks, afraid to turn around.

“Well, well, well. Looks like Jabba’s got somethin’ for us. An’ this time, she doesn’t have her bodyguard with her.” The other two twats let out sinister giggles. Until she met these fuckwits, she wouldn’t have thought that adjective could apply to giggling. Rae slipped the loose strap of her backpack over her free shoulder and tucked the albums under her arm. She took a deep breath and forged ahead. Maybe they would get bored and leave her alone.

“Oi, Jabba! Where ya headed? We could carry your records for ya.” Big G glanced over at Ninja with a malevolent twinkle in his eye. “Can’t promise we won’t break 'em, though." 

Rae strode on, trying to ignore them. She’d once chanted "Knebworth Knebworth Knebworth” to herself, this time she thought “Finn’s house Finn’s house Finn’s house” and raised her head to make sure she didn’t look pathetic as she walked away.

Big G’s henchmen were quicker than her, and the two of them were in her face before she knew it. “Give 'em us,” Ninja demanded.

She hugged them tighter under her arm. “No! Look, just piss off. I’m not botherin’ ya. I’m jus’ walkin’ by myself. Can’t ya leave me alone for once?”

“Not BOTHERIN’ us? With that face? And the rest of ya? Yer disgustin’ and makin’ everyone feel like throwin’ up.” Big G spat out his words, which were worse than usual. Rae figured he was getting back at her for the beating he’d gotten from Finn. He nodded at Ninja and Squeaky, who both made retching sounds, sticking their fingers in their mouths for emphasis. 

She couldn’t let them make her feel worse about herself. That’s what they wanted. She just stepped around them and kept walking. Big G strode after her and grabbed at the albums. He only managed to get ahold of Nick Drake, which was outermost. He held it away from her and pretended to peruse the front. “Who’s this knobhead? Trust Jabba to have shit taste in music." 

Before Rae could stop herself, she yelled, "Fuck you! Give it back, arsehole!" 

Big G’s face clouded over, and he stared at her as he took the record out of the album sleeve. He held it up and then flung it like a frisbee over to Ninja, who wasn’t ready to catch it. It bounced off Ninja’s forearm and clattered to the uneven pavement, scratching the grooves of the A side. Rae wanted to take a minute to lament it, the lost potential of that record, but mostly she just wanted to get the fuck out of there and forget the encounter entirely.

"Oops!” Big G laughed, ripping the album cover in half. “Guess you won’t be needin’ this, then.”

Rae turned on her heel and strode away quickly. She was only a street away. She heard them calling after her, but didn’t look back until she was on the corner of Finn’s street. They hadn’t followed her. She took a deep breath and checked the albums she was still carrying were fine. 

Part of her wanted to run home and hide, but she’d told Finn she was coming, and she was here. And part of her wanted to run back and punch those guys as hard as Finn had. What the fuck was their problem with her? Was it just that she was easy prey? Or did they really hate her so much? She willed her feet forward until she got to Finn’s house. She surveyed the front. It was so much bigger and cooler than her house; she might have even said it was sexy.

She walked up to the door and was about to knock when it swung open and she was face to face with Finn.

* * *

He’d been waiting for her. It shouldn’t have taken her this long. He started to worry she decided not to come. He’d watched out of his bedroom window for awhile, then decided to go downstairs to the front room. She’d appeared a minute ago, walking slowly and looking shaken. She inched toward the front door, and Finn wondered if she really wanted to be there. She had called him, but was he imagining a reluctant tone? He didn’t even think how it would look, just opened the door before she even knocked.

“Oh! Hi!” Rae said.

Finn peered at her, dispensing with greetings. “Y'alright?” he asked, a sharp note in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Good, I mean.” She looked down at the records in her hands, avoiding his gaze, as she stepped over the threshold into the small front hall.

“Didja find the place okay? Started to think maybe ya got lost.” He said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, it wasn’t too hard to find.” She hesitated for a second, like she was considering whether to explain why she was a little late. “I … ran into someone on my way here. We just had a chat, slowed me down a bit.” She still hadn’t looked him in the eye. 

His eyes narrowed. “Oh, really? Anyone I know?” He couldn’t account for it, but it felt like he was standing on a precipice, waiting to hear how he should feel, whether he would fall or fly. 

“N-not really. I don’t think so.” Rae was definitely nervous. Finn wasn’t buying it. 

They were only a few inches apart. This reminded him of their minute in the airing cupboard, and it unnerved him. He lowered his voice. “Rae. Who did ya run into?”

She finally looked up, her eyes meeting his. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just listen to these records, okay? I mean, please." 

The frustration of not knowing crackled inside his chest. He could tell something had happened, and the fact that she didn’t want to tell him, or didn’t trust enough to tell him, made him a little crazy. It didn’t take a detective to work out that whoever it had been wasn’t a friend of hers. She was rattled, and he wanted to rattle the bastard back. 

Instead, he took the vinyl off her and examined the covers. "I’ve never heard these before. I mean, I recognize the names from NME, that article about Morrissey, but haven’t listened to 'em.” He glanced up, and Rae seemed to have relaxed a bit. “Come on, my room’s at the top of the stairs. If we hang about here any longer, my dad’ll spring up and bend yer ear for weeks.” He jogged up the steps and walked over to his turntable. He snuck a look over his shoulder as she tentatively stepped into his room, and noticed the corner of her mouth quirk up into a smile. He flipped the record that had been resting on his player up and into its sleeve. “Which one d'ya wanna start with?" 

Rae walked over to study the two albums. She pointed to the Nico cover, "I think this one. She looks …” her voice trailed off. 

“What?” he asked, almost breathless.

“I was gonna say … but, nah. It’s stupid. Maybe we should play the other one first.”

“I bet it’s not. What does she look like?” He didn’t know why he was pressing the issue, but it was like she was avoiding everything today. He just wanted some sort of truth from her. An honest opinion, an unguarded comment, something that would show she trusted him, even a little bit. 

“I was gonna say … she looks–she looks like how I feel sometimes.” Finn’s eyes returned to the cover, the color portrait of a sad girl inside a bigger, sadder black and white portrait. He was instantly flooded with a sadness of his own. He looked back at Rae, and he must have shown it, because she said, “I mean, yeah, she looks sad, but … you know when you’re sad, but you’re kind of happy to be sad? Like, you’re, what’s the word?” Finn shook his head, but was curious. “Melancholy!”

“Melancholy?” Finn echoed.

“I think that’s what I mean,” Rae mumbled. 

“Okay, well, let’s see if she sounds melancholy, then.” He put the album on the turntable and went to sit on his bed. Rae followed behind and stared at the space on the bed next to him. She turned around and sat down on the floor beneath the space, leaning against the bed frame. Finn would almost be amused, if he weren’t so frustrated. “Ya can’t be comfortable down there. Why don’t ya sit up here with me?”

Rae turned her head to look up at him. She shrugged, and slid herself up to sit next to him on the bed. 

The Fairest of the Seasons began to play. Nico’s voice wasn’t conventional in any way. It was deep and imperfect and almost hollow, like she was empty from pouring herself into the song. Finn and Rae sat side by side on the bed, leaned up against the wall, just listening. The album cover, now resting across their knees, had not been false advertising. The guitar made an attempt at cheerfulness, but was tempered by the drones of the string section. The song was thoughtful and deliberate in its sadness. The second song, These Days, was just as wistful, maybe more so. Finn was staring at Rae’s hand, so close to his, and noticed that the final lyric gave her goosebumps: “Please don’t confront me with my failures/I had not forgotten them." 

The third track started. Finn started to get overwhelmed by that itchy longing to touch her. He could feel the desperation telegraphed in his features. He tried to arrange his face to hide it, furrowing his eyebrows and biting his lower lip, but he realized that conveyed anger, and tried to relax his face back to neutral. Shit. It would never get there, because he _wasn’t_ neutral on the topic of Rae Earl and he simply couldn’t convince his face or his hands or his brain or his knob to act nonchalant around her. So he didn’t try to hide it anymore.

"Rae?” he asked.

She turned her head to look at him and whispered, “Yeah?" 

He gently took her hand and turned her palm upward. He glanced up at her before slowly tracing I WANT YOU.

When he was done, he allowed himself to glance back up at her. She looked confused, maybe even a little frightened. "To what?” she whispered in reply.

Finn tried to articulate. “Be here. Be around me. Be my friend. Be … more than my friend. I just know, I want  _you_.” It was the most honest he had been in his entire life. Speaking the truth made him feel so much better. It was out there, this thing that had been squatting in his brain, taking up so much space. And he’d found the right word, for once. He didn’t feel he knew what romantic love was, and he wasn’t willing to use that word when it didn’t mean anything to him yet. But he understood wanting, longing. And he’d discovered that the only time his want was bearable was when she was with him. Only it wasn’t, because she was right there and it wasn’t close enough.

* * *

Rae blinked in disbelief. His words started to sink in. And then, she was scared. Angry. Ashamed. Anything but happy, which is what she wanted to be. She’d wanted him to tell her this for weeks, but now that he had, she knew it wasn’t right, him wanting her. At least, not without knowing her better. Her problems, her neuroses, her fears. But those were the things that would drive him away. A little piece of advice she’d given to Archie flitted across her mind: “Why don’t you just be brave and tell people? Then you wouldn’t have to worry all the time.” She took her hundredth deep breath of the day.

“Finn.” Rae stated his name like it was the answer to a question.

He was already looking at her, had been for a long time. “Yeah?”

“I need to tell ya somethin’.”

He nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

“Yesterday, you know my appointment?” He nodded. “It was with … a therapist. I see a therapist twice a week, because … I used to hurt myself. I … went too far one night. Whether by accident or not, I couldn’t tell ya. But, after they treated my leg, they admitted me to a mental home, to keep an eye on me. To make sure I didn’t try again.”

Finn continued to stare at her, eyes growing bright. She was sure that her confession would have made him look away.

“Why?” Finn whispered.

“If I could answer that question, Finn, I would tell you and my mum, and Chloe and Kester. I’d tell Tix and Izzy, and Archie and Chop. But, the truth is, I don’t know why. It’s everythin’, and it’s nothin’. It’s probably a little bit bein’ fat and some not havin’ a dad. Bein’ alone too much with my thoughts and the larder.”

“Those twats in the street. Them lot that I roughed up. Did they have anythin’ to do with it?” Finn breathed.

“It’s like … water on a stone. Everythin’ wears ya down.” Rae took a deep breath and fixed her gaze on the back of her hands. “Anyway, I had to tell ya, Finn. Even though I know this changes everythin’ and ya probably hate me, I couldn’t let ya think I was normal. It wouldn’t be fair. I like ya too much to lie to ya.”

Finn’s head shot up and he started to protest, “No, Rae–”

She held up her hand. “This last coupla weeks, they’ve meant so much to me. Spendin’ time with ya and findin’ out yer not a complete knob.” She tried to laugh, lighten the mood. “Just know that I won’t hold it against ya, if you don’t hold my keepin’ this secret against me. I hope we can still be friends.”

Finn finally looked away, his eyes darting back and forth. He ran his hand through his hair, and kept it across the back of his neck as he considered her words. After a torturous minute, he glanced up.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?”

“Finn, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want ya to be sorry, Rae! I-I want ya to be okay.”

“I want to be okay, and I’m gettin’ better. But I can’t change what’s happened. I’m mad, and I don’t know if that will ever completely go away.”

Finn chewed on his cuticle, mind clearly racing. Without warning, he leaned over and grabbed Rae into a hug. She sighed and allowed the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes to fall. Even through her two t-shirts, she could feel Finn’s finger tracing letters on her back. 

* * *

He held her fast for a moment after he’d written the eight letters. She didn’t say anything, but sniffed, so he knew she was crying. When he let her go, she sat there limp, a tear trickling down a trail already formed. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” she implored. He didn’t reply, just stared intently at her. How could she think he would write a thing like I LOVE YOU and not mean it? A moment ago he hadn’t been willing to say to himself that he loved her, but when she’d said she tried to hurt herself, and almost gone too far, he knew instantly. The thought of her not in the world, not a phone call away, not sitting next to him at the pub, was incomprehensible. And that must be love. It didn’t just sadden him to think of Rae gone; it nearly destroyed him. “I-I don’t believe ya,” she said, but she started to smile. 

He smiled back and said, “I-I don’t care if ya don’t believe me.” He leaned in to embrace her again, and after they had held each other, trembling, for a long while, he slid back just enough to look into her eyes before closing the space between their lips. It was a fluid motion, and felt at once completely natural and utterly strange. He worried for a second that she didn’t want this, until he felt pressure from her lips. He held her tighter and their kiss deepened. The inside of his eyelids glowed a deep blue. He wondered what color she saw when they kissed, but didn’t dare to ask when they broke apart. He opened his eyes to see that hers were still closed. He gently traced his finger under her eye and across her cheek, to wipe away the tear. 

Her eyes opened, and searched Finn’s intensely. He didn’t know what she hoped to find there. He guessed she was still looking for signs that this was a joke, so he said, “I’m serious, Rae.” This time, she hugged him. The last track of side one faded out, and they stayed there, leaning into each other, holding on tightly, like the bed was a raft on the high seas. 

Just then, there was a knock at the door. They both jumped and released their embrace. Rae used her sleeves to wipe her eyes and Finn called out, “Yeah? What is it, Dad?" 

The door opened and John stood there holding a plate. "I went ahead and made some sandwiches, anyway. D'either of ya want one?”


End file.
